


I Can Read It On Your Face

by CaptainMorgan



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, finn doesn't help much., poe dameron is a doofus., rey deserves to rest.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21876940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainMorgan/pseuds/CaptainMorgan
Summary: Though Poe’s actions may at times seem daring, it can’t be said he acts without thought, without consideration towards every outcome - it’s not that he’s RECKLESS, it’s that he’s willing to do the IMPOSSIBLE even with all odds against him, taking on the mantle in pursuit of what needs to be done.He’s calculative, too much ever at stake to just barrel forth as many presume - each situation is met with quick analysis, treated with deliberate scrutiny no matter how severe it may be ; critical scenario or not, he considers every outcome, dissecting possibilities in search of which prospect accords the least fatalities.In the case of handling his attraction towards Finn, he holds back to ensure his heart doesn’t get injured by the inevitable rejection that all signs point towards - so, you know, instead of saying ‘I love you,’ he says :“Where’s Rey?”
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 17
Kudos: 367





	I Can Read It On Your Face

Were it not for the three pitched against each other in embrace, Poe fears his weary bones would cause him to collapse - but as ever, he has Rey and Finn for support.

It’s Rey who draws back first, not enough to retract entirely, just enough to grant them all the opportunity to look at each other, really _look_ at each other, and the weight of it all finally hits them---  
but it inspires elation, a giddy laugh bubbling up from Rey first.  
_They did it._  
Within his chest Poe’s heart _soars_ , quivering smile spreading wide across his lips in mirror of the one that blooms across Rey’s own.  
Finn, for his part, is all but _blubbering_ , the emotion overwhelming.  
_They did it._  
Her next laugh mingles with a half-choked sob, Rey leaning towards Finn to plant a kiss to his temple, providing affection as best she can presently express, words far from enough at the moment - it’s an action that Poe is tempted to mimic, craving to console their weepy friend. Rey’s head leans against Finn’s own, but her teary gaze travels to Poe, her hand relocating from across his shoulder to now cradle his cheek, and he leans into the palm with a swell of affection filling his heart near to bursting.  
_They did it_ , and their victory grants them another chance to be here together.

A shuddering inhale sounds from Finn who - _eyes previously shut_ \- blinks to look at the two of them, and the emotion in his gaze is what does it, Poe’s heart finally reaches bursting point, that adoration now spreading through him in his entirety - Finn’s so _vibrant_ in his emotion, everything he’s feeling so plainly colored across his face; since he’s been allowed to express himself he’s felt everything so _strongly_ , and it _shows_ \---however the Empire subdued this man is admittedly impressive, given how _fierce_ he is in his passion, how _intense_ in his grief, and how just the sight of his teary eyes carries more impact than the _Force_.

Excepting the hand Rey keeps upon Poe’s cheek, they remain with arms looped around each other - shoulders and waists, hooked together and unwilling to part, clamor and excitement happening around them in bouts of celebration, or in the few cries of heartbreak, a handful of visibly bawling fighters in the immediate area alone returned home, but without who they’d hoped to embrace in the chance of their victory.

Poe’s own heart wars between exhilaration and distress, many good fighters lost to good cause - but those who remain deserve to find their peace in this win, deserve to honor and recognize the efforts put forth by those who didn’t make it back.  
So, it’s _Poe’s_ turn to withdraw a fraction. Rey seems to understand, her hand falling briefly to his shoulder before swinging around Finn’s front to cross over to opposite shoulder,  
now effectively holding him from the side, but Finn himself is less willing to let go---  
As Poe begins to withdraw Finn’s hand catches tight to the waist of his flightsuit, the fabric bunching in his fist, similar to the subsequent _squeeze_ to Poe’s heart, which is performing all _sorts_ of impressive cardiac acrobatics today.

A tight smile crosses Poe’s lips now in offer towards Finn, who - _sensing now the intention behind extraction_ \- relents his grip some, understanding the necessity but not entirely willing to separate yet.  
This garners a breathy laugh from Poe, grateful for those who want to KEEP him with no ill-will to such desires. Finn lets him go, but Poe reaches up to catch the fighter’s cheek, holding him steady whilst leaning in to press their foreheads together.  
Not so visibly affectionate as Rey’s prior kiss, but bearing potentially more intimacy - though this potential, _as it always has_ , remains untouched between them.  
There’s another shuddering inhale from Finn when Poe once again retracts, though he catches his lower lip between his teeth and just nods.  
Turning towards Rey, who wears now a soft smile upon blatantly exhausted features, Poe extends a hand to curve it around the nape of her neck, less reserved in placing lips to her forehead, speaking against blood-spattered skin:

“ _I’m so proud of you_.”

Her response is hard to discern between whimper, another little laugh, or a hiccup. Whatever inspires it, she sounds grateful, like he’s just lifted a turmoil from where it weighed upon her shoulder; like the words had been all she’d needed to finally acknowledge that her work is - _for the time being_ \- finally over, and her rest has been _earned_. It’s such a look of gratitude that he doesn’t know how even to return it, responding by retreating his hand and brushing aside some loose flakes of blood at where they sit above her brow.

Between them he shares another smile, one that begins broad but soon subsides into a tender thing, losing none of the sentiment shining in his eyes.  
His first step backwards is hesitant, as is the second, but by the third he’s steeled himself, certain he’ll see them both later -- call it a _feeling_.

\---The next few hours pass faster than could have been anticipated, time busied with consolation, celebration, and check-ups.  
There are a few moments wherein Poe compares the aftermath to their short stint on Pasaana, all colors and loud noises and the general sense of being wrapped up in a collective that’s here to praise a historic moment.  
His back and shoulders are just about sore from all the claps and pats he’s received, stomach full from treats and drinks that have been passed to him;  
at his heels BB-8 rolls along, beeping at him in a flurry of statements and exclamations, trailed by new friend D-O, who takes caution to ensure he always has some amount of berth.  
It’s his own little drone parade, their path colored by streamers and strips of cloth, fighters and engineers and the hopeful making celebratory favors out of whatever they have access to.

Poe’s path isn’t entirely aimless, his feet carrying him across the grounds in search of Finn and Rey once again, because although this is a commemorative event for the entirety of their side, there’s not quite anyone else he’d like to enjoy the victory with aside from them.  
\---However he does let himself get stopped along the way by Zori, taking a moment with her to give praise and reminisce - as well as grant a genuine, heart-felt gratitude which seems to make Zori a touch uncomfortable. ...Until she discovers he may have laid the sap on thick for that sole reason, to which she responds by punching him in the shoulder - _mindful at least of the injury to his left arm_ \- and they leave it at that; playful banter that exists with sincerity at its foundation.

It takes longer than he’s entirely comfortable with to find the first sign of either closest companion, the throng of people thick and busied with crowding together, providing some difficulty in picking out any distinct faces; D-O chitters distressingly behind Poe, yet rejects being carried.

“Doin’ my best here,” Poe insists in endeavor to assure the bot, patting twice to a broad back in congratulatory gesture, as well as an indication that he’s attempting to get past.  
Path opened before him, he shuffles past with droids trailing behind---  
\---up until he’s stopped by a hand grasping at his wrist, and before he’s able to speak the first syllable of ‘ _kinda in a hurry_ ,’ he recognizes in turning that it’s Finn who’d grabbed him, and the rush leaves him in a breath.

Finn’s been cleaned up some, the layer of sweat that coated him earlier having been washed off at some point; he wears a growing smile, eyes alight in a way that Poe faintly suspects may threaten tears if prodded with too much emotional sentimentality, and he’s again just so _FINN_ that Poe is once more pressured with the urge to kiss his brow - or his cheek. Nose. Lips. Really, there’s just an ever-present desire to impart adoration upon him, most noticeable when Finn stands too close to him, looks too long at him, or just generally exists---it’s a constant, but Poe has just learned to live with it, grateful already with what he’s allowed, knowing there already exists a fondness between them but withholding from pressing towards territory that could tip the balance towards further intimacy; Poe’s been called NUMEROUS things in his time, among them he’s been labeled BRAVE - though often in terms synonymous to RECKLESS or FOOLISH, but that’s not entirely the case.

Though Poe’s actions may at times seem daring, it can’t be said he acts without thought, without consideration towards every outcome - it’s not that he’s RECKLESS, it’s that he’s willing to do the IMPOSSIBLE even with all odds against him, taking on the mantle in pursuit of _what needs to be done_.

He’s _calculative_ , too much ever at stake to just barrel forth as many presume he does - each situation is met with quick analysis, treated with deliberate scrutiny no matter how severe it may be; critical scenario or not, he considers every outcome, dissecting possibilities in search of which prospect accords the least fatalities.  
In the case of handling his attraction towards Finn, he holds back to ensure his heart doesn’t get injured by the inevitable rejection that all signs point towards - so, you know, instead of saying ‘ _I love you_ ,’ he says:

“Where’s Rey?”

“ _Sleeping_ ,” Finn answers, word coupled with an airy chuckle. “I saw her a little while ago on top of a pile of blankets, thought I should let her be. People have been putting flowers down around her, it’ll be a surprise when she wakes up.”

That garners a smile from Poe, who plans on holding tight to the memory of Rey’s earlier smile - _she’s earned it_.

Lost in thought as he is, it only registers now that Finn’s still got fingers wrapped around his wrist; although Poe personally becomes all-too aware of the point of contact, he urges himself to remember not to read too strongly into it - Finn has been deprived of positive contact for much of his life, it’s understandable that he’d hold close those he cares for -- especially given how quickly they could be lost, given the dangerous stunts for which have become the trio’s _modus operandi_.

Poe’s in no hurry to shake Finn’s hand off, but the grasp _does_ add a touch of awkwardness to the situation, given his hand just hangs there limply at where it’s held. In Poe’s subtle attempt to adjust, to perhaps _grab back_ if allowed, Finn perhaps reads the shift wrong, letting go with a stammered apology, only for fingers to bump during Poe’s try at transitioning to a proper hand-hold. The moment becomes a messy few seconds that stretch, painful clarity to each fumbled knock of hands as they can’t figure whether or not they’re supposed to be letting go or grabbing back on - they keep getting the timing wrong, and it’s only diffused when Poe shoves his hands into the pockets of his orange suit -- he deems Finn’s expressions overt, but considers this once that he just might be reading _too_ much into the brief purse that pinches Finn’s features.

“All good, buddy?” Prompting posed with an arch to Poe’s brow, met with an animated single-shouldered shrug from Finn;

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just---it’s pretty crowded out here.” A problem Finn hadn’t seemed to have before, but Poe’s own response is preceded by _another_ congratulatory smack to the back as someone passes behind.  
Acquiescing that the space may be a bit too boisterous for now, he tips his heads towards the outskirts of the main space, brow still cocked.

“Step away with me?”

“Yeah.”

\---And maybe he’s _also_ reading too much into Finn’s willingness to follow him.

They venture out from the main thoroughfare, traipsing around the foliage with speckled stars out in the distance awarding them all the light they need.  
They share conversation on earlier victory, filling in the blanks where one was airborne and the other performing extremely risky maneuvers aboard the shell of an Imperial Star Destroyer - but Finn tells his side with a broad grin, and Poe can recognize that he’s satisfied - rather, _PROUD_ \- to be able to take his own actions, make his own choices in regards to the lengths he’ll go for what he stands for - there’s no way Poe could fault him for that, even though his heart nearly leapt from his throat when he’d heard of Finn’s activities while still in his X-Wing.  
They’re grounded now, feet firmly on solid earth, laughing out of pure giddiness as they mimic combat from before, occasionally bumping into one another as they pretend to be fighter jets in their own retellings, walking literal circles around each other in visual representation to aid their stories.

It’s with an especially hearty bout of laughter that Finn sees himself sat down upon a nearby felled tree, the stump of which wears burnt ring, implying Jedi training from some time back.  
Poe, with trouble at holding back his _own_ exhalations of amusement, eases himself beside companion, attention caught by the unabashed grin that’s drawn up the corners of Finn’s mouth. He wears his glee so beautifully, shooting Poe through the heart more effectively than a laser blast, but burning him up all the same.

When lively howling subsides to occasional chortles, the two are left sneaking glances towards each other, holding gaze only once caught. It’s Poe who clears his throat, still wearing a smile;

“You are a _hazard_.” He states, as though it’s not the general consensus, though it’s noted _fondly_.

“I learned by watching _you_ ,” Finn pleads his defense, quick on the retort, a trait picked up from hanging so often around those who banter and quip as a first language.

“Zori would have an opinion about that.”

“ _Spicerunner_?” In disbelief.

“Look, we all keep some stuff to ourselves. ---What did you want to tell Rey?”

It sombers the moment immediately, though it’s evident that Finn tries to pretend it _doesn’t_ , just like Poe tries to pretend it hasn’t been eating at him.  
_Sure_ , he can concede it’s jealousy that keeps him bothered by it, but it’s not so much the assumption towards what it COULD be that sits with him, turning the anticipation to an unpleasant churning in his gut, _no_ \---it’s that Finn didn’t seem as hurried to share any last words with _him_.  
It _stings_ admittedly, though he tries not to let it - Finn and Rey have always been close, the two having formed a bond that ties them closer than anyone he’s ever seen, a connection between them that could be born only of unconditional, unequivocal, incomparable love and loyalty.  
There’s a love between all three of them, _familial_ depending on from who the string connects, but Poe’s on occasion left to feel as an _outsider_ , and being kept out of _this_ loop certainly implies he’s not welcome to the knowledge, that he’s again being shut out - and _really_ , he just wants to hear Finn say he loves Rey so that Poe has justifiable reason and furthermore _incentive_ to give up his crush - _if he can_. It’s _fun_ to be in love with Finn, just… not when he’s reminded that the length to which his love goes is one-sided.

“You’re still on that?” Finn presses, and Poe - with no witty remark on his tongue - just shrugs.

An exhale that still sounds laced with a touch of humor, Finn’s chin tucking towards his collar as he looks aside. It takes only a moment for him to glance upwards once again, looking out towards the sky, the stars beyond; they’ve been through a lot out there, but ask Poe and he’d state it nothing short of miraculous that, _even in all that vast expanse_ , they’ve found each other and are now able to sit side-by-side as they are. The sentiment is so touching that he almost considers waving aside his prying for a later time, but then Finn gives reply:

“I wanted to thank her.”

Excuse Poe if his expression falls a touch impassive, if a little _unimpressed_. “ _Thank her_? Your whole drama was about saying _thanks_?” _He’s been bullshat before, Finn._

Gaze sweeps towards Poe, and the pilot finds nothing but sincerity - he almost shies from it, the open genuineness in Finn’s expression, drawn by soft features and imploring eyes - that’s right, this isn’t a man who makes a habit of lying to those he cares for. ...Still, inherent nature has Poe on the fence about accepting the claim, so he just cocks a brow.

Finn meets Poe’s shrug with one of his own, otherwise at a loss for how to resolve this - he has access to all these emotions, but seems at a loss for how to vocally elaborate on them.  
In reaction, Poe throws up a hand in concedence, accepting the case as it’s presented, though not without granting some prompts to help Finn along - if he won’t say it _himself_ , Poe will do it _for_ him, and just allow Finn the chance to jump in with agreement wherever he sees fit.

“---And here I thought it’d be something more major. She’s a great girl---she’s a _hero_. And you two really have something special. Something not many people get the chance for.”

...The only problem is that Finn is doing a lot of nodding, _not_ a lot of speaking up.  
Poe, growing increasingly winded up, rakes a hand through his ruffled curls, yanking at the roots and plowing forward;

“---And I’m happy for you guys, y’know? I really am. I _really_ am.” He means it, _sincerely_ \- casting aside romantic attraction, there’s undeniable adoration between the group.  
If _they’re_ happy, _he’s_ happy. He’s not so malicious as to grow antagonistic over it, or so pitiful as to let himself spiral into misery - they’re his FRIENDS, first and foremost, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them.  
_No_ , he only feels bad when they _leave him out of things_ , or after he’s had a round of _particular_ thoughts starring Finn while in the showers and he’s hit with the reality of things _after_ the fact.

Gesticulating vaguely has led Poe into facing forward, and now Finn leads forward - elbows on his knees - trying to place himself in the pilot’s line of sight ;

“---What are you talking about?” He sounds so impressively _genuinely_ concerned that Poe is torn between questioning whether he’s misunderstood something, or if Finn is trying to keep _this_ private, too.

“You and Rey. _Together_. I support you guys, y’know? Could’ve done so sooner if you’d just _told_ _me_ about it.”

The next look is unmistakable - Finn looks at Poe as if he’s left his common sense back on Exogal.  
There’s a pregnant pause, during which Poe grows increasingly agitated, now beginning to squirm uncomfortably under unrelenting _squint_ , not used to having no way out---  
Just as he’s about to part his lips in plot to speak up, Finn supplies his input:

“I thought _WE_ were together.”

\---and it’s _Poe’s_ turn to look dumbfounded, thick brows raising _high_ before furrowing together. Lips do now part, but it’s to drop an eloquent “ _Huh_?” _So, misunderstood, then_.

There’s a solid few moments wherein the two just look at each other, expressions racing through varying stages of incredulity, disbelief, skepticism. Mouths open and shut, the two at a loss for what to say, where to begin in correcting things---  
It’s Poe who finally catches at his own jawline, dragging fingers across the growing stubble as he leans back a touch, still looking _hard_ at Finn.

“We’re together and you _didn’t tell me_?”

Finn all but erupts at that, an outburst of _embarrassment_ \--- “ _Me_? How are you making this MY fault!”

“Because _I_ didn’t know anything about it! We never talked about this!”

“You gave me your jacket!”

“Is _that_ what you constitute as being _together_?”

“No---but---you said it suited me!” There’s a flush painted across Finn’s cheeks here, and judging by the warmth crawling over Poe’s own cheeks, he’d guess his own countenance reveals the same.

“It does--- _that’s not the issue here_!” Poe once more gestures animatedly, exasperation to move him; “I thought you interested in _Rey_!”

“Well I’m _not_ , so what’s the problem?”

“If I knew you _weren’t_ , I’d have done this right!”

 _That_ seems to quell whatever vexation had been building in Finn, his expression now going _soft_ , even while Poe’s own brows remain knitted, a tilted frown on his face.

“What would you do right?” Finn prompts in a soft voice, one that disarms much of Poe’s aggravation and just leaves him feeling uncomfortably conscious.  
Question receives a shrug as initial response, Poe casting his glance aside, again lifting a hand to get his fingers lost in the mess of curly hair.

“For starters, I’d have kissed you before we left for _Exogal_.” He’d WANTED to, but presumed circumstances denied him - _to think_ that he might’ve been _allowed to_ all this time……

“You could kiss me now.” Finn declares, adamant in his invitation, no room for shame now. In fact, he seems a little _eager_ towards the idea, again attempting to lean towards Poe’s line of sight - Poe, who’s stare travels back to Finn and remains there, attention keeping him static all throughout an emotional rollercoaster, disregarding the fact it was _Finn_ who _put him on the ride_.

There’s another stall in the moment, this one broken by Finn who reaches a tentative hand up to find Poe’s, fingers carding through dark locks on their endeavor. Finn takes his hand - _making Poe feel like the galaxy's biggest idiot over the mix-up earlier_ \- and guides it to the space between them, this diminishing as he shuffles half a seat closer. Poe can’t do much else but exhale a breath, the sound laced with amusement as he’s granted clear view to the invitation present in the lopsided half-smile Finn puts on display -- he thought he was well-versed in all of Finn’s expressions, but it seems he’s missed some key details that shine in those eyes when they’re caught on him; Poe’s seen some pretty incredible views in his time, being an X-Wing fighter he has front-row seats to the expansive wonders of the universe, but nothing can really compare to the sight of Finn fidgeting anxiously, awaiting a kiss from him with such impatience that Poe suspects - if left waiting - he may just take charge himself. ...But that’s a theory to be tested on another day, as the pilot is busy lifting his other hand, catching Finn’s cheek and holding him steady.

It’s a tender press when their lips meet, beginning gentle peck that tapers into a slow, languid lock upon the first slide of lips.  
Poe’s heart-rate skyrockets, but it’s not entirely by cause of the kiss - it’s actually a little clumsy, breathy exhalations from nostrils expressing humor every time they catch awkwardly;  
no, it’s because he’s kissing _Finn_ , and because _Finn’s kissing him back_.

It’s a kiss that persists, both two stubborn to release until lungs demand it, though they do so reluctantly, inhaling deeply under assumption they can get back to things once their chests no longer burn---

“You really believed we were together? Even though I never did _that_?” Poe, riding high on the taste that lingers, poses the question with an airy laugh.

“I just thought you weren’t affectionate.” Finn confesses, hesitant to revisit the topic that earlier made him so bashful. ...He’s right to be so, as Poe’s laughter becomes a more tangible thing.

“You’re about to find out how affectionate I can be. I’ve been holding back on you.” _It’s a promise_ , one that Finn receives with good favor, lips parting into a toothy grin - and, _really_ , it’s too alluring for Poe not to associate that expression with a flavor, craning in for another kiss.

Their second is shorter than their first, though certainly not lacking in sweetness;  
They come apart with matching smiles, foreheads meeting to keep the distance closed, to relish the two getting their stories straight.  
...Up until Poe, expectedly, finds the witty remark where earlier he’d been lacking;

“So when’s our anniversary?” And it earns an eyeroll, but Poe can clearly see now the _fondness_ in the act.

“Keep joking, see if we _get_ one.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you @ my younger sibling for seeing the movie with me and snickering about relating palpatine to our mom's old-ass gnarly dog.
> 
> where did the droids go ?? who knows ?? not me .


End file.
